Calamine Lotion and Oven Mitts
by penguino3782
Summary: Mac gets the Chicken Pox. No biggie. It's just a kid's disease, right...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own MacGyver.**

 **A/N: I know that I have another WIP in this fandom, a "Not So Merry Christmas". I promise that I did not forget about it and I started writing the next chapter. But, this story wouldn't leave me alone, so I had to run with it. Enjoy!**

 **Calamine Lotion + Oven Mitts-Chapter 1**

"So, let me get this straight. You haven't seen Leanna in six weeks and you're going to take her to comic con?" Riley asks as she, Mac, and Bozer walk along the main hallway of the Phoenix Foundation.

"We're still getting to know each other. She had no idea about my movie thing, so I'm trying to impress her with my vast inner workings of the movie industry," Bozer explains with a huge smile.

"More like annoy the crap out of her with your useless movie trivial," Riley quips.

"Hey! I can only imagine what you would want to do on a date," Bozer replies.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Riley asks with a bit of aggravation in her voice.

"What the heck are you guys rambling on about?" Jack asks as he joins the trio.

"Bozer wants to take Leanna to comic con," Riley explains as she looks to an unusually quiet Mac. "Don't you guys think he can do something else with her? It's not like they get to see each other a lot."

Mac doesn't reply, but Bozer does. "Don't ask Jack that!"

"Why do you say that?!" Jack asks exasperated.

"Beeecause your idea of a good date night is taking your date out to the shooting range and then grabbing some wings," Bozer replies.

"So, what's wrong with that?" Jack asks.

Bozer huffs. "Nothing if you're going to head over to a frat party after."

"I hate to cut this short, but Matty is looking for us. It's only Monday and I don't want to get on her bad side this early in the week," Riley cuts in to stop the disagreement from escalating.

"Yeah. We better get going," Bozer says as they head to Matty's office.

The unusually quiet Mac has Jack a little concerned. He didn't offer any input on their "great date night" discussion. Jack expected a little ribbing from the blonde, even if it was at his own expense. But Mac was eerily silent throughout the conversation.

"You okay, Mac?"

"I'm fine," Mac answers quickly. Too quickly.

But, unfortunately before Jack can dig deeper, they've reached Matti's office. Jack's concern for his partner must take the backburner for now. Duty calls

"Well, look who has finally decided to join us," Matty says to Cage as the rest of the team walks into the office. "Now that's everyone is here. Let's get started."

Everyone's attention is turned towards the large screen. Mac's eyes might be looking straight ahead, but his hands are elsewhere. And they're not working on one of his famous paperclip creations. He's fiercely scratching a spot on his back.

"Meet Olga Petrova. A Russian spy who has had a change of heart after meeting her mark, Mark Samuels," Matty begins. "Samuels is head of Secura, a security firm that specializes in providing security for the CDC warehouses that house some rather nasty biological agents. Ebola. Small Pox just to name a few."

"Why the sudden change in heart?" Jack asks as Mac's scratching moves to the back of his neck.

"Petrova has fallen for Samuels," Matty says with a quirk of her eyebrow.

"Oh man, are you joking?!" Jack exclaims.

"Afraid not," Matty says as she brings up a photograph of a very pregnant Olga Petrova wrapped in the arms of a smitten looking Samuels.

"Give me a break!" Jack says.

"Do we know this is for real?" Riley asks.

"Yeah, are we sure this isn't some elaborate rouse of the Russians to get her into the country legally?" Bozer adds.

"Every US agency has vetted this. They all say the same thing. That Petrova legitimately wants to defect to the US," Cage confirms.

"I don't buy it," Jack says shaking his head.

"Well, you're not giving the orders around here," Matty says. "I am. And your order is to go to London to retrieve Petrova, who's in one of our safe houses, before the Russians figure out what she's up to. Are we clear?"

"You got it boss," Riley says.

"Crystal," Jack says.

"Got it," Bozer says.

Matty's attention turns to Mac who stops itching his back in mid scratch. "You're very quiet, MacGyver. You don't have anything to say about Romeo and Juliet?"

"Nothing. When do we leave?" Mac asks rubbing his forehead.

Matty shakes her head. "I don't like this."

"See! I told you this situation is fishy," Jack says.

"Not the mission, Jack." Matty replies and then takes a good look at Mac. "I don't like how quiet you are. Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," Mac says as he now feels everyone's eyes on him. Just great.

"You are awfully quiet," Riley says. "You didn't make one comment about Bozer taking Leanna to comic con."

"You do look tired," Cage says.

"And you didn't eat breakfast. And I made my famous blueberry pancakes," Bozer adds.

"Guys! I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine." As if to prove he's lying, a sudden vicious itch on his side is calling his attention.

"Add irritability to the list," Riley quips.

"Why the hell are you itching?" Matty asks as Mac scratches the nape of his neck roughly.

Concerned, Jack moves towards his partner and stretches out a hand to touch his forehead. His hand is met with warm, clammy skin. "And I think you have a fever," Jack says worried. What's more alarming than the actual fever is that Mac didn't move out of Jack's reach. His usual catlike reflexes are definitely slowed. That's not good.

"MacGyver, go to medical to get checked out." Matty orders.

"Guys, I appreciate your concern. But, I'm telling you. I'm fine," Mac tries.

Matty walks closer to the blonde. "This is not a request."

The determined look on his boss' face and the concerned ones of his teammates leave no room for debate. "Fine, I'm going now. Don't leave until I'm cleared from medical."

Matty mods her head. "If Medical clears you, we'll wait for you."

Knowing the discussion was over, Mac reluctantly makes his way towards medical.

 **XXXXX**

"So, what's the verdict, doc?" Mac asks Dr. Kelligan, the Phoenix Foundation's head physician, after his examination. "Am I going to live?" Mac jokes.

The doctor gives the blonde a small smile. "You'll be fine in a few days. Two weeks at most."

"What?" Mac exclaims. "Two weeks?"

"Have you ever had the chicken pox?" Dr. Kelligan asks. "Or did you get the vaccine when you were younger?"

Mac frowns. "I could have sworn I had them when I was a little kid."

"I don't think you did, MacGyver. Because my friend, you have them now."

"Are you joking?" MacGyver says as he rubs his head. The dull headache he woke up with this morning has only gotten worse as the day has gone by.

"I'm afraid so," Dr. Kelligan says.

"Just great." Mac sighs. "Jack and the others are going to have a field day with this one. Chicken Pox. I thought only kids get Chicken Pox."

"And you," Dr. Kelligan adds.

"Let the jokes begin," Mac says as he lays back down on the exam table.

 **XXXXX**

"Okay, so change in plans," Matty says to the Riley, Jack, Bozer, and Cage. "I just got off the phone with Dr. Kelligan down in medical. Mac's grounded."

"What's wrong" Jack asks concerned.

Matty holds her hands up. "Mac has the Chicken Pox."

"The Chicken Pox?! Are you joking?" Bozer adds.

"Afraid not. Our young blonde, baby-Einstein is currently scratching himself raw down in med bay with a fever of 102.3," Matty confirms.

"I thought only kids get them," Riley says.

"And Mac apparently," Bozer adds.

"Oh, this is going to be great. I can't wait to harass the kid about catching a kid's disease," Jack says way too gleefully.

"Well, your happiness at your partner's expense is going to have to wait for a bit. We still have a mission. I need you and Cage to go to London to retrieve Petrova. Wheels are up in 30. Riley is going to stay here for logistics," Matty explains.

"And what about me?" Bozer asks.

"You are going to get your roommate from medical and take him home where you are going to sit on him to make sure that he does nothing stupid while he recuperates," Matty says.

Bozer's eyes get saucer big. "No! You can't do that to me. Riley is going to need me here."

"Um, no I won't. I can do this blindfolded," Riley says shaking her head.

Bozer turns towards Jack. "Take me with you!"

"Am I missing something?" Cage asks confused. "Why is Bozer so desperate to do anything but watch Mac?"

Jack chuckles. "Cage, we got the easy job here. Russian spies. Biological agents. That's nothing compared to what Bozer is about to endure. You haven't had the pleasure of watching over a sick Mac, no Bueno."

"No bueno is right," Bozer says. "The last time he was sick and running a crazy ass fever, he somehow connected the television to the microwave. I nearly messed myself when the Walking Dead started blasting at two in the morning when I went to heat up a Hot Pocket."

An incoming call is coming in from medical. "Well, Bozer. You better get ready because I bet $20 bucks that is Doc begging you to get down there to get Mac off her hands," Jack says laughing.

"Laugh it up, Jack. Don't forget about my little friend named, Karma. And she does like to be a bitch."

"Good luck, Bozer." Jack says as he walks by the younger man on his way out. "You're going to need it."

"Hi, Doc." Matty answers the call. "What can I do for you?"

An exasperated Dr. Kelligan replies, "I thought you said someone was coming down here to get MacGyver. He's trying to do something to my MRI machine.."

Jack lets out a loud laugh as Bozer lets out a whimper.

"Wait up, Jack. I'm coming," Cage calls as she quickly makes her exit behind the former Delta.

"Cage! Jack! Come back," Bozer yells after the retreating pair.

 **I hope you guys liked it! I have it in my head that Mac would be the worst patient ever. The way his mind is always going, I bet he will not know how to just let his body rest.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I still don't own MacGyver.**

 **A/N: Thanks to all off you who are reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting this. You guys are the best!**

 **Calamine Lotion and Oven Mitts**

"Mac! Bozer! Where are you guys?" Jack calls as he walks into the kitchen to see Bozer washing dishes in the sink.

"Shhhhh!" Bozer hisses at Jack as he turns around, sponge in hand. "Mac is finally sleeping. The last thing I need is you waking up his diseased, miserable hind parts."

Jack quirks an eyebrow. "He's that bad?"

Bozer's only response is to scrub the pan he's washing harder.

"It should had taken a day. Maybe 36 hours tops. But nooooo. You show up here all well rested and smiling four days after leaving me with the patient from hell!" Bozer whispers loudly. "And don't think I don't know you made a pit stop in Texas on the way home!"

"I had personal business to take care of," Jack tries to defend himself.

"Bull!" Bozer says. "You were doing everything power to avoid being around patient zero."

"I wanted to have Cage try some good barbecue," Jack says in his vain attempt of defending himself.

Bozer doesn't say anything else but his raised eyebrow says it all. He knows Jack is lying. Jack's detour through Texas was solely done to avoid dealing with a sick Mac.

"Okay, okay. Well, I brought a peace offering," Jack says holding up a pizza and a six pack of beer.

Intrigued, Bozer puts down the sponge and turns to Jack. "Is that a pizza from Giuseppe's?"

Jack nods. "Sausage and onion."

"Well that's a start. Let me finish washing this and then we can eat."

Jack places the pizza on the counter and grabs a couple of plates from a cabinet. "Why are you washing that by hand anyway? I thought you guys had a dishwasher."

"We did until yesterday," Bozer says. "When Mac decided to try and rewire it. Something about improving water pressure. All I know is the dishwasher is out of commission and the showerhead is a damn power washer now. I think I lost a top layer of skin when I took my shower this morning."

Jack whistles. He looks down the hall towards Mac's room. He's surprised, but also a little unnerved with the lack of movement coming from his partner's bedroom. That's not normal. "That bad. Huh? You said he's sleeping? Should we wake him up to eat?"

Bozer gives up on the pan for the time being. "Nah. Let him sleep. He needs the rest. Besides, I doubt he's going to want to eat."

"Even pizza from Giuseppe's? He loves Giuseppe's." Jack says as he takes a bite out of his piece of pizza.

"I think he has the pox in his mouth. His throat is clearly bothering him. He's not eating much of anything. And he's not talking much either."

"Oh man," Jack bemoans. "In the mouth! Ouch!"

"Mhmm," Bozer says as he bites into his own piece. "He's got them badddd."

Jack frowns. He didn't see many spots, if any on the kid when he left a couple of days ago to go on that mission to London. Then again, they were mostly on Mac's back and stomach at that time. He really feels like an ass for avoiding Mac now when the kid is clearly pretty sick.

"Has he at least been resting?" Jack asks taking a sip of his beer.

Bozer nods his head. "Yeah. He laid down about an hour ago and was sleeping when I checked in on him about twenty minutes ago."

Jack grabs another piece of pizza from the box. "So, besides the throat what else is going on?"

"He feels miserable. The pox…are everywhere. His fever is still hovering around 102. I think his little rewiring project yesterday depleted whatever energy he had left. He's pretty exhausted. Been sleeping on and off all day when he's not being a pain in my butt."

"Well, have no fear. I'll take over Mac duty." Jack says after he takes another sip of beer. "I heard there's some movie you and Riley want to go see. Go! I got Mac."

"You only brought a six pack?" Bozer asks. "You're going to need more than that. Mac is extra prickly this go around."

"Pssst. You may be his roommate, but I have had my fair share of experiences dealing with a laid-up Mac too."

"Ruptured eardrum two years ago," Baz says. "To make up for the tinnitus he increased the television volume to the point where it can be heard In New York City."

"Yeah, well I had him when he had that compound fracture in his ankle," Jack retorts.

"Pleassse, he was on crutches! He could barely move."

"Like crutches slow Mac down," Jack says shaking his head. "And that incision got infected. He went septic to the point where he was rambling on about Newtown's laws and other science mumbo jumbo. He was making less sense than he normally does," Jack adds.

"Oh yeah. That was a bad one," Bozer agrees. "Just to give you a heads up, he was talking about some equations earlier and mentioned something about the lawnmower."

"Greeat." Jack says as he finishes his beer. "You got something stronger?"

"Don't worry, Jack." Bozer says as he pats Jack on the back on his way out. "I'll pick you up something on my way home from the movie."

"Bozer!" Jack call out. "Get back here!"

"Karma," Bozer sings songs as he leaves.

 **XXXXX**

Jack makes himself busy as Mac sleeps. He's able to get the pan clean. What the hell did Bozer make?! He also picks up the kitchen. The usual meticulously kept clean kitchen was in a bit of disarray making it clearly evident that Bozer has been busy keeping Mac out of trouble over the last couple of days.

Jack is not exactly quiet as he works his way through the kitchen. Through it all, Mac has not yet made an appearance. Worried, the older man checked on his partner only to find him sprawled across his bed, sheets tossed aside. Bozer was right. The pox are everywhere. They're on his face, neck, and arms. He's sure that they are on Mac's hands too, but he can't say for sure because there are two oven mitts covering them. Bozer.

Shaking his head, Jack returns to the living room. This is going to be fun when Mac wakes up. Oh well, in the meantime he'll park himself in front of the television with a beer and some chips.

It's nearing the two-hour mark before Jack hears movement coming from Mac's room. Looking away from the game, Jack looks to see Mac standing, more like leaning, against the door frame. "Hey, partner! How you feeling?"

Mac doesn't answer. But he doesn't need to. His appearance says it all. If possible, Jack thinks that there are even more red spots marking Mac's skin than there were when he checked in on his partner earlier. He's sporting the worst case of bed head that Jack has ever seen. The blonde's tee-shirt is damp, the fever is still going strong. And most telling of all, the oven mitts are still on Mac's hands. If Mac was feeling remotely like himself, they would have been off as soon as he woke up.

"Oh, bud." Jack says with a sigh. "Come on. The game just started but we can watch whatever you want," Jack says making room on the couch.

Mac slowly makes his way to the couch. It's almost painful watching him inch his way the few feet it is from the doorway to the couch. Mac plumps tiredly onto the couch, sighing in relief.

"You want something to drink?" Jack asks.

It seems to take a few seconds for the question to penetrate through his partner's fever fugue. That and the thought of physically answering is probably too painful for Mac's raw throat. Mac finally nods his head.

"Okay, partner. I gotcha." Jack says as he squeezes Mac's sweat drenched shoulder. The kid feels like he's boiling from the inside out. "I'm going to take your temp too."

The lack of protest is not right. Mac's insistence that he's fine when he's clearly not is legendary among his friends. The fact that he's not protesting getting his temperature taken is so unnatural. So not Mac.

"Okay, I'll be right back." Jack says as he gets off the couch. Mac doesn't acknowledge what Jack says and instead tries to make himself more comfortable on the couch. He doesn't even bother with those damn oven mitts.

Jack wastes no time getting them both a drink and tracking down a thermometer and some ibuprofen. He nearly trips over his own two feet rushing to get back to Mac. Mac is in the same exact position that he was when Jack left him. His fevered bright eyes are on the tv, but he's clearly not watching the game. His hands are unusually still.

Dealing with Mac when he is sick is no easy task. It's frustrating and tiring as hell, but Jack will take listening to a sick Mac rambling on about complicated mathematical equations and tinkering with household items any day over dealing with this shell of his partner.

"Open wide, "Jack orders as he slides the thermometer in his partner's mouth. It's a quick glimpse, but Jack can see what Bozer is talking about. Mac's mouth is littered with tiny, little sores. Jesus. He then removes the tape from the oven mitts as he slides the oven mitts off. "Oh man," Jacks says as he takes in the site of his partner's hands. Small, painful looking blisters are all over them, even in between his fingers. Ouch.

No sooner than the mitts are off, Mac roughly itches a spot above his left eye. "Hey! Easy!" Maybe Bozer did have the right idea with the oven mitts.

Mac is in the middle of scratching his ear when the thermometer beeps. "102.8." Not good. But, it's been in the 102-103 range for a few days now. Nonetheless, he's still going to give Dr. Kelligan a call. "Here," Jack offers the Tylenol and a glass of water. Jack can't help wince when he sees Mac painfully swallow the pills. He drinks greedily and only stops when Jack pulls the glass away. "Easy. You're going to make yourself sick."

Mac reluctantly let's go off the glass and leans back into the couch, exhausted from the short trek to the couch and sitting up to drink.

"Rest, buddy." Jack says quietly as he puts his partner's knee.

For once Mac listens and he soon falls back asleep. Jack lowers the volume of the television to allow his sick partner to rest. He clearly needs it. Jacks says a little prayer. Hopefully, Mac will start to feel better when he wakes up. For all their sakes.


End file.
